


The Longest Heat

by Apothic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Bad Jokes, Biting, Bondage, Bonding, Consent Play, Dildos, Domestic Fluff, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Fisting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Knotting, Light BDSM, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mpreg, Nipple Play, Omega Draco Malfoy, Omega Verse, Out of Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Role Reversal, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Self-Lubrication, Size Kink, Stripping, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-07 21:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apothic/pseuds/Apothic
Summary: Draco's first heat won't end until an alpha knots him. Trapped in a shed by the betas who tried to sell his virginity, he has given up hope that they'll find another buyer before he goes mad from the pain. A crew of aurors show up just in time. Because the closest safe apparation point is a five day hike, an alpha named Harry offers to knot Draco. It's an offer he accepts, even though it will bond him to Harry for life.





	1. Chapter 1

Draco knows that he’s starting to go mad.

He can hear his captors discussing how much longer he has before the fever and the maddening ache to be filled by something more than the plug they shoved up his ass will become too much. They’re worried because he’ll be worth less to them once his mind goes. They paid Draco’s father too much money to lose out on their investment.

Draco is shaking with need. He doesn’t know how long he has been in heat. Weeks? A month? His swollen cock won’t release from the pressure of the plug anymore. He knows he’ll need a real alpha’s knot to make all of the pain, trembling, and sweat that coats his entire body like a slime go away. But he won’t get that knot in time. His beta captors are keeping him in a shed out of the middle of nowhere-- a request from the alpha who wanted to buy Draco’s virginity. But that alpha is long gone.

Draco doesn’t like to think about the faint scent of the old alpha who left him here with his captors to die. He doesn’t like to think about how the alpha mounted him, the man’s erection softening once he was inside Draco. He doesn’t like to think about the way the alpha slammed him into the wall, or kicked him in the stomach. The alpha screamed at his captors, saying Draco wasn’t pretty enough-- saying Draco’s slick wasn’t sweet enough. Apparently, Draco simply wasn’t good enough to get the old alpha to knot.

He focuses on memories of his mother. It’s been so long, but he can remember the sound of her voice as she sang to him, her soft fingers combing through his hair. He hums the songs she used to sing as the hours stretch before him-- no relief to the pain and sickness that wrenches through him, making his body try to vomit even though there isn’t anything left inside his stomach.

There are new voices somewhere outside the shed. Angry voices. He can’t make out what they’re saying, but he can hear the crash and swish of dueling spells meeting the flimsy wooden boards that keep his shed standing. Draco allows himself to hope he’s being rescued for a few moments, before smiling bitterly. He really must be going mad. Who would rescue him? His mother died a long time ago. His father left the country with the money he got from selling Draco. No one knows he’s out here, and even if they did, they wouldn’t care.

He thinks he just heard the door opening, but is that real? He feels a breeze against his skin.

“Bloody hell! Harry, get over here. Those bastards have a virgin omega in here. He looks like he’s been in heat a while.”

Draco’s never heard that voice before. Is he still imagining this? If not, he should be embarrassed. He’s lying naked on his belly, his ass raised into the air. He’s not sure if he can move, regardless of how embarrassed he should be. His muscles are too tired from all of the shaking.

That’s when he smells something so good his entire body tenses. An alpha. Not an old alpha with a scent that ebbs and flows. No, this alpha’s scent is thick and overwhelming. Draco doesn’t even try to mask his gasp, and then moan, as footsteps approach the shed.

“Oh... His smell.... I need to leave. I’m not going to be able to control myself.” Draco knows that deep voice belongs to the alpha. He can feel it. Was it Harry? Is that what the other man called him?

“He’s calling my name,” Harry says, his voice breathy.

Draco was speaking out loud without realizing it. He really is going mad.

“Hey, we’re here to help you, okay? You’re going to be alright,” the first man’s voice says.

“We don’t know that. He looks like he’s been in heat for weeks. And we can’t apparate out of here. It will be at least five days before we’ll reach a safe apparition point.” This voice is new, and female.

The voice is closer. The woman must be walking toward him. But the scent of the alpha isn’t getting any closer. Draco can’t help the disappointment that rushes through him. Of course that alpha won’t come any closer. These are good people, and a good alpha wouldn’t want anything to do with Draco.

“Then Harry will just have to knot him,” the first man says.

Draco moans again, his body shaking harder now.

“He can’t do that! It will tie Harry to this man for life. We don’t even know who he is,” the woman whispers, but Draco can hear her.

“It won’t tie Harry to him. It will just tie him to Harry. That’s better than going crazy,” the man insists, and Draco can hear that they’re right next to his cot now.

“Ron! That’s horrible!” the girl hisses.

He feels a hand on his back. “Hey,” the woman’s voice says. “Let’s get you into the house, okay? We’ll get some water for a bath. That will help you feel better.”

Her touch isn’t what Draco needs, but it’s still nice after being alone for so long. Draco tries to get up, but his muscles won’t move.

“We’ll need to carry him, and his skin is too slippery. Scourgify!”

Draco’s body tenses as his skin feels like it’s getting scrubbed by a rough sponge. He sighs. It feels so good to be clean.

His stomach cramps up again. He can smell that alpha.

“Dean and Seamus are here. They can help you carry him in,” Harry’s voice calls out.

“Oh, good. Send them in!”

Draco feels several hands on his naked body, and then he’s in the air-- his muscles singing in relief, and then clutching in pain as he tries to straighten out his limbs. He closes his eyes, and tries to not think about what he must look or smell like. He tries not to despair that the alpha, who must be watching the others carry him into the house, is continuing to keep his distance.

He’s being set into a hot bath. There’s a warm rag dragging across his skin. And then someone puts a cup to his lips. He doesn’t bother to tell any of them that he won’t be able keep food or water down. It feels easier to swallow.

Everything goes black.

***

Draco wakes up in a bed. He’s wearing clothes. He immediately brings his hand to his ass to see if the slick is ruining whatever trousers they’ve put him in. To his horror, there is a thick layer of fabric under his trousers instead of pants. How humiliating.

The ache in between his legs is still horrible, but not as horrible as it was. They must have brought post-heat suppressants. They’re terribly expensive. Draco feels so grateful he can barely speak.

He’s lying alone in the same bedroom where the old alpha rejected him, inside the cabin where his captors were staying the last few weeks. Draco straightens out his legs. Someone must have healed him too, because his body doesn’t scream out in pain when he tries to roll over and sit up.

Draco wonders what they’re going to do with him. If they have enough post-heat suppressants maybe they’ll transport him to a brothel and try to sell his virginity the way his last captors did. Draco hates to admit it, but that would be a relief. At least he would get knotted. It will be hell to feel tied to a man who never wants to see him again, but at least it will be a different kind of hell.

There is a knock at the door. The scent of the alpha fills Draco’s nostrils. It’s so good, and it makes Draco’s slick return. He’s going to have to get out of these trousers before he ruins them.

“Could I come in?” Harry’s voice says.

“Yes.”

When the door opens a tall man with wild, dark hair steps in. He has a thick layer of stubble and a round pair of spectacles. He’s wearing a loose sweater and jeans over his wiry, muscled frame. His scent flares, as his green eyes burn into Draco’s.

“I’m Harry.” It’s obvious that he has to make an effort to keep his tone casual. He shuts the door behind him.

“Hello,” Draco says, his voice still a bit raspy from the dehydration.

“What’s your name?” Harry asks.

“Draco. Draco Malfoy.”

Harry doesn’t recognize the surname. Of course he doesn’t. It’s been a long time since the Malfoy name meant anything.

“It’s good to meet you,” Harry says, sitting down next to Draco on the bed. “I’m sorry to rush you, but we don’t have a lot of post-heat suppressants. Hermione gave you the last of them an hour ago, and they’re going to wear off in the next few minutes. Which is why I’m here. I… am not a rich man, Draco. I’m afraid that I don’t have the resources necessary to be considered as an attractive mate for an omega.”

This discussion is going to be about why Harry is going to sell him to a brothel. Draco already knows it. Omegas are rare. They’re worth a fortune if they’re sold before their first heat. The smell of them alone is enough to get a rich alpha to spend thousands of dollars to knot them for the first time. Draco wishes he wasn’t so fucking valuable. But wishing isn’t going to change anything.

“I live in a house not unlike this one-- in the middle of the woods. I have a greenhouse where I grow rare herbs with a mate of mine. You’d like him. He’s an omega, like you,” Harry flushes. “Not to say all omegas are the same, of course.”

As Harry talks Draco can feel his stomach cramp, and the ache between his legs grow. The suppressants have run their course. Draco isn’t sure if he can take the pain anymore. He’s not sure how long it’s going to take for this alpha to transport him to the nearest brothel, but he’s not sure his brain can hold out any longer. He can feel his mind resigning itself. He almost tunes out Harry altogether.

Until he hears the words: “But I’m the only alpha in our group. So I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for me. There isn’t much of a choice.”

“What?” Draco asks, thinking that maybe his mind is already gone.

“I’m going to have to knot you. I’m sorry. The dark magic in these woods makes apparating really risky, which is probably why they took you here in the first place. We can’t wait until we get to a safe apparition point. You’ve already been in heat for far too long.”

“Oh,” Draco says, and it’s more of a gasp.

Draco almost swoons from the thought of it. This alpha is going to knot him? He supposes it makes sense. A crazy virgin omega isn’t worth as much as a sane one who has already been knotted.

“I’m just going to leave you for a minute, okay? Let you get… situated. I know that Hermione had to… clothe you so the slick wouldn’t get the bed too wet. She just wanted you to be able to rest. I’ll be right back, okay?” Harry says.

Draco should feel embarrassed, but he’s too overwhelmed by the knowledge that the pain will soon be gone. This horrible heat will finally be over.

“Alright. Thank you.”

Harry gives Draco a nervous smile, almost standing up to leave. But then he stops, and leans closer to Draco, pressing his lips to Draco’s cheek. Every nerve ending in Draco’s body jolts-- like lightning.

“Thank you, Draco. I just… think you should know. I’m… honored.”

Harry stands up, and leaves Draco alone in the room.

***  
In the end, Draco takes all of his clothes off. It’s too bizarre to keep his shirt on while his trousers are off, and he can’t wear the trousers without getting them wet unless he keeps the bunched up fabric Hermione fashioned in place of pants. Draco knows that he’s a bit on the skinny side, and he doesn’t have much muscle definition after being stuck in that shed for a few weeks. After the last alpha made it clear that Draco’s scent and slick weren’t enough to make him knot, he’s scared that Harry will be disappointed.

He stands there, uncertainly, as there is another knock on the door, and Harry says, “I’m going to come in, alright?”

“Arlight.”

Draco’s hugs his arms to chest, staring at the floor as Harry walks in.

“Merlin--” Harry whispers, his eyes roaming over Draco. He closes the door. “You’re so... “

Draco’s shoulders tense, waiting for the insult. But it doesn’t come. Instead, he feels Harry’s fingers at his chin, lifting it to look in Draco’s eyes. Then Harry’s mouth is on Draco’s, and the entire world is Harry’s lips and tongue and teeth. When Harry grabs Draco around the waist Draco feels slick slide down his legs, and to his humiliation, some of it splashes onto the wooden floor.

Harry lets out a deep groan, and his mouth moves from Draco’s lips to his neck. He bites down. Hard. Draco doesn’t even try to muffle his sharp cry.

Harry’s teeth retreat, his eyes darting up to Draco’s.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, his voice soft.

“No. Please, Harry, please…”

And then Harry’s mouth is back on Draco’s. His tongue thrusting, his teeth dragging along Draco’s jawline. Harry’s buries his nose in the crook of Draco’s neck, inhaling the scent of Draco while his tongue runs over and over the bite mark. Draco can barely see from the pleasure of it. It’s all too much. It’s all too good. Draco never thought it could be like this. He never thought anything could be like this. His knees buckle, and he falls onto the bed. He can’t control himself. He grasps the front of Harry’s sweater, and tugs him down. Harry comes willing, his body resting on top of Draco. The weight of Harry is warm and solid and perfect. Draco wants to reach up and put his arms around Harry, but he doesn’t dare. He doesn’t want to scare Harry off by being too demanding.

But Harry said they didn’t have a choice. Harry will knot him, even if Draco’s a little too greedy, right? This will be the only time he’ll ever get to touch his alpha. The only time he can put his arms around him.

While Harry presses Draco into the sheets with another kiss, his hips lining up with Draco’s and grinding, Draco keens, unable to stop himself. And then he does it. He puts his arms around Harry’s waist, and holds him closer. Harry isn’t annoyed. If anything, he grinds into Draco harder.

“Merlin, you’re so…” Harry whispers, his teeth biting down onto Draco’s bottom lip, and making Draco see stars.

Draco can feel the hard heat of Harry pushing into his own erection, and the friction of the fabric of Harry’s trousers rutting against his bare skin makes him gush even more slick onto the sheets.

“I’m sorry. You need me to… I’m getting distracted,” Harry stammers, and then his weight is gone. “Flip over. I’ll knot you, okay?”

Draco wants to tell Harry that he can take his time. He wants Harry’s knot, but he also wants his lips and his teeth. He wants something to remember Harry while he pines away for an alpha that he never gets to have again. But Draco still turns over onto his stomach. Harry is being kind. Draco can’t ask for more than that.

“Oh, you’re so wet,” Harry says, and Draco can feel the whisper of Harry’s fingers along the cleft of his ass. Draco moans into the sheets. Harry is sitting on the bed, leaning onto his right forearm while he grazes the tips of his fingers in between Draco’s cheeks.

It’s so good, but he wishes he could breathe in Harry’s scent during all of this. Draco only gets to have Harry once. So he leans over to Harry’s forearm, and inhales through his nose. When Harry slides one finger inside of him, he almost comes.

“Do you like that?” Harry asks, as Draco takes another deep breath through his nose, the smell of Harry washing over him.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I won’t. I just wanted your scent,” Draco mutters, turning away. He shouldn’t be so needy.

Harry shifts, sliding his right forearm underneath Draco’s head, while two fingers plunge inside of Draco, the weight of his body deliciously pressed on top of Draco’s side. Draco cries out Harry’s name as his fingers pump in and out of Draco, curling to hit something deep inside that the plugs never could reach.

“If you want my scent, you can have my scent,” Harry whispers into Draco’s ear, as he adds a third finger, and Draco starts whimpering and writhing underneath him. Draco is mouthing Harry’s forearm now, wishing he could bite it. But Harry would never allow him to do that. If he drew blood Harry would be bonded to Draco, the way Draco will be bonded to Harry after the knotting. Draco’s surprised Harry’s letting him suck at his skin this way. If he doesn’t stop soon he’s going to leave a mark on Harry’s forearm. The idea that Harry’s skin will be pink from Draco’s lips makes Draco squeeze his eyes shut, and moan even louder as Harry’s fingers pick up speed.

It isn’t just the force of the thrusts or the way they hit him just right that makes Draco come, even though he hasn’t been able to come for at least a week. It’s the way Harry pants in his ear, the way Harry rocks his own erection against Draco’s side, the way he mutters, “Oh, yes, Draco, yes. So beautiful...”

The orgasms rips through him, and Draco tries to muffle his scream by closing his mouth, but he knows he’s loud. Draco didn’t see Harry do any privacy charms, so Harry’s companions can probably hear them. When the sheets underneath Draco are sticky, and he’s still trying to catch his breath, he whispers, “I’m sorry I was so loud.”

Harry gives him a wicked grin. “Be as loud as you want. Everyone else is gone. They went ahead of us. Told them not to set up camp until they hiked at least a few hours.”

When Harry’s finger’s leave his body Draco aches worse than ever. He grits his teeth, and takes a deep breath. Draco reminds himself that Harry won’t go away. Not now. Harry gets off the bed, and pulls his sweater over his head. Harry’s body isn’t that much bigger than Draco’s. Which is a surprise. Draco was always told that alphas were huge.

Draco notices the way Harry glances up at him and bites his lip-- almost as if Harry feels insecure. Almost as if he’s as worried that he’ll be found lacking as Draco was in the beginning.

“Please, Harry,” Draco begs, because the pain is becoming unbearable.

Harry nods, and yanks his pants down. There is one part of Harry that is definitely big, and he doesn’t waste anymore time lining it up in between Draco’s cheeks. Draco can feel the blunt head push inside-- much wider than three of Harry fingers. But the burn he feels is such a different kind of pain than what he’s felt the last few weeks, it’s a relief. His toes curl and his eyes squeeze shut as Harry fills him. Harry grabs at his hips as he bottoms out.

Harry feels so good. Not like the other alpha. Harry feels right. This must be the bond, Draco thinks, as he is overcome by how much he wants this alpha. But then again, maybe it isn’t only the bond. Maybe it’s also the way Harry asks, “Hey, are you okay?” Or the way he starts out slow, the way his thrusts are strong once he starts to speed up, and the way he hits Draco just right over and over and over again-- like he cares if Draco feels good.

No one has cared how Draco feels for a long time.

Soon Draco can’t think. Harry is slamming into him, and he’s crying out senselessly, his voice breaking every time Harry hits home, his ass pushing back into Harry’s thrusts.

That’s when he feels it-- the thing he has been aching for every moment for weeks-- the thing that will finally bring his misery to an end.

He thought it would just be the base of Harry’s cock that would swell, but it feels like the entire thing is growing inside of Draco. Harry has started swearing in a steady stream, ramming into him even harder than before. Draco can feel the knot start to pull on his rim. His fingers grasp at the sheets, and his ass arches up, so ready to take it. The last time Harry completely pulls out, Draco’s rim burns as Harry forces it back in, the squelching noise echoing through the cabin.

“Oh, Draco, this is… you’re so tight… so good.”

Draco’s mouth is open, but his scream is soundless as Harry’s knot pushes against his walls. It hurts. So much, that every muscle in Draco’s body tenses. Draco bares down in one huge push, and Harry roars. Draco feels even more full as Harry comes inside of him. There’s so much of Harry, and it’s pushing, pushing, pushing-- finding space where there isn’t any-- splitting open Draco so wide there’s no way Draco can take it all. And then Harry pulls at Draco’s hair, yanking his torso up until he can sink his teeth into the bite mark he made earlier.

Draco is coming. Draco is falling. Draco’s ass is pulsing around Harry, his dick releasing into the sheets, his entire body is letting go of all the pain and tension that almost drove him to the point of insanity.

In its place is a desire to cling to Harry tight as soon as Harry collapses on top of him. He settles for reaching back and grabbing Harry’s ass, which may not be welcome, but Draco doesn’t care. Harry is his alpha.

Then he remembers this is the last time-- the only time-- he will be knotted by his alpha. This sense of peace will never come again.

He can’t stifle the sobs that rack through him.

“Hey. Shhhhh. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I was too rough, wasn’t I?” Harry whispers. They’re still tied together, so neither of them can move, but Harry kisses Draco’s shoulder, then nuzzles him there, like a lover.

Draco just shakes his head. Harry already explained the situation to him. Harry can’t afford an omega. Harry is poor. He needs the money he’ll get from selling Draco. Harry never offered Draco more than he could give. And Draco foolishly took it, thinking that going mad and dying from lust was worse than living with a broken heart.

“I’m sorry, Draco. I won’t be that rough next time, okay? I promise. I’m so sorry.”

Draco stills. “Next time?” he asks.

He can feel Harry’s kisses along his neck, and the lobe of his ear.

“Yes. I mean, we can take our time getting there, of course. This time we had to rush things so you could feel better. But now that you’ve been knotted, we have until your next heat before we have to make love again. We can get to know each other. It might be uncomfortable for you to sleep in a separate bed, but I’ll be good. I promise.”

Get to know each other? Make love?

“Harry… does this mean… you’re going to keep me?”

Maybe it’s just the hormones talking. Maybe Harry’s confused.

But the way Harry freezes against him just before he says, “What do you mean? Of course I’m going to keep you,” suggests that it’s more than hormones. Harry makes it sound like it’s human decency.

Draco realizes it is. He just didn’t think human decency mattered anymore.

“Did you think… that I was going to sell you after I knotted you?” Harry whispers, as though it were unimaginable.

“The last alpha…”

“Was a disgusting human being, Draco. I’m not going to sell you,” Harry says, nuzzling the curve of Draco’s shoulder. “I know this isn’t exactly the best way to start a bond, and I know that omegas can usually marry alphas a lot richer than me. I get that. But I’m going to do everything I can to be a good mate to you. I promise.”

This time when Draco sobs it’s with relief. Harry strokes his hair, leaving soft kisses along his neck and shoulder.

“You’ve had a hard month, huh?” Harry says.

Draco nods.

“Should we make it better?” Harry asks, rotating his hips until Draco gasps.

Harry grinds against that spot deep inside Draco, and before Draco can stop himself, he’s coming into the sheets again, crying Harry’s name. When Harry slides his forearm under Draco’s head this time, Draco sinks his teeth into his skin, and Harry groans-- managing to fill Draco up even more.

“Thank you, Harry,” Draco whispers, as he licks at the space where his teeth broke flesh.

“Don’t thank me, Draco. I’m so lucky to have you.”

They lie side by side while they wait for Harry’s knot to go down, and Harry tells Draco more about the woods where he grows rare plants with an omega named Neville Longbottom. His alpha, Luna Lovegood, sometimes uses the plants for her experimental potions, but mostly they sell them in bulk to a shop in Diagon Alley. Harry tells Draco about his parents, and how happy they will be to meet Draco.

“Why were you traveling in these woods?” Draco finally asks.

“Hermione. She’s an auror. There were some sex trafficking victims she rescued with a rare potion found in their system. It’s used for limited forms of mind control. In order to make it you need a herb that only grows in this forest. So she brought me along to help her identify the herb.”

Draco smiles and closes his eyes. They were there to rescue him.

“How long has Neville been working for you?” Draco asks.

“With me, Draco. With. We’re equals. Just like you and me.”

Draco has a hard time believing that’s true. But there have been many things about today that have surprised him.

Harry’s knot eventually eventually softens, and he pulls out. Harry’s cum and the remaining slick rush out of Draco onto the sheets. For the first time he wonders about pregnancy. Does Harry want children? Does Draco? And if so, how many?

He tables those thoughts for another day. There is something far more pressing.

“Do you have a tent then?” Draco asks.

“Yes. They left some gear for us.”

“Can we leave? I don’t think I can stay in this place a second longer,” Draco says.

Harry nods. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

They’re both tired as they put on clothes, and pack up Harry’s things. Draco leaves the cabin that night without anything to call his own except his freedom. And Harry.

It’s a lot more than what he started out with.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in response to a few comments requesting more. Enjoy! There will be two other chapters to come, posted weekly.
> 
> I appreciate the comments and kudos I received for the first chapter. You guys are the best!

Draco’s legs are shaking as they hike through the forest. Apparently, Hermione wasn’t able to completely heal the the atrophy in his muscles. But it doesn’t matter because Harry is holding his hand, their fingers laced together tight. Draco doesn’t even try to hold back the grin on his face. He knows he’s staring at Harry too much-- drinking in the sight of him like he’s a mirage or fantasy. It can’t be true that this kind and handsome alpha bares Draco’s mark on his wrist. 

“Let’s take a break,” Harry says.

Draco shakes his head. “I’m okay.” This is the third break they’ve had to take in the last hour. He doesn’t want to slow Harry down like this.

Harry stops walking, tugging on Draco’s hand. He snakes his arm around Draco’s waist and pulls him in for a languid kiss.

“I’m not in a hurry to catch up to the others, are you?” Harry asks.

Draco shakes his head again.

Harry guides Draco over to a tree, sitting down against the trunk, and pulling Draco to sit in front of him. When Harry wraps his arms around him, Draco closes his eyes. There is no way to tell Harry how good this feels-- how much every single touch means to Draco. There’s no way he can ever pay Harry back for all of this. But once they get to Harry’s home, he’s certainly going to try.

“So, I’ve told you about my family and friends. What about you, Draco?” Harry asks.

Draco stiffens against Harry.

“Hey, we don’t have to talk about your family. I’m sorry. But I’m curious about you. Maybe you could tell me something else about yourself?”

Draco doesn’t know what to say. That he loved quidditch and potions before his dad pulled him out of Hogwarts when he started smelling like an Omega four years ago? That he missed the wand his father snapped in half when Draco tried to escape the shack they lived in after Malfoy Manor was auctioned off to pay his father’s debts? That he had tried to escape again and again, knowing his father was going to sell him the second he went into heat for the first time, but he never managed it? Lucius was too skilled at occlumency, and Draco simply wasn’t smart enough to outwit him. He doesn’t want to tell Harry any of that. He doesn’t want this new part of his life to be defined by his past.

“I like apples,” Draco finally says.

Harry places a kiss on his throat, running his tongue over the bite mark there.

“There’s an orchard near our cabin. The trees are enchanted to produce year round. I can bring home fresh apples for you every single day.”

It’s the most romantic thing Draco has ever heard. And not just the apple part, but the way Harry said “our cabin.” Harry sucks at his mark, and Draco’s breath becomes ragged.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are,” Harry whispers.

***

They travel slowly through the forest, taking frequent breaks, until the sun sets, and it becomes too difficult to navigate in the dark. Harry unpacks some camping gear from a small backpack that clearly has an extension charm.

While they are cocooned in their sleeping bags-- two bags Harry zipped together so they can share each other’s warmth-- Harry lets Draco smell his hair, and take Harry’s fingers in his mouth, one by one. Draco loves the way Harry’s breath catches as Draco drags his teeth along Harry’s digits, sucking the entire length with his tongue, letting the tip slide deep into his mouth until it’s almost penetrating his throat. Draco closely watches the way Harry’s face twists into an expression that’s half bliss, half hunger, and he wonders if that’s what Harry looks like during sex. He wonders if Harry will ever agree to face Draco during sex, so he can see.

Even though Harry said they would wait until his next heat, Draco longs to have Harry inside of him now. Not just because his body aches for Harry, but because he’d like to know what Harry was talking about when he said “making love.” Would it be different than the last time? Would it be slow and sweet? Would he be allowed to touch Harry more? Would he be allowed to take Harry in his mouth, to taste Harry’s cum?

Draco sucks Harry’s finger deeper, and almost chokes on it. Harry moans. Then Harry plops his finger out of Draco’s mouth, and kisses his forehead, whispering, “Later, my love. Later.” Harry takes his hand, still wet from Draco’s tongue, and pushes gently on Draco’s shoulder to ask him to turn over, until Draco is nestled against Harry’s chest. Draco can feel the hard length of Harry’s erection pressing against his ass. But when he tries to rock against it, Harry grabs at his hips, and with a breathy voice says, “Not yet, love. We have our whole lives to do that. Let’s get to know each other better first.”

Harry offers Draco his forearm to smell, and Draco falls asleep with the scent of Harry surrounding him. He feels safe. He feels happy. But most of all, he feels so much love for Harry, his chest can’t contain it all.

***

They reach the auror camp the next morning. Ron and Hermione are sitting by a fire pit with a mug in their hands.

“Good morning,” Harry says, smiling at the two of them.

Ron nods at them. “Morning.”

“Seamus and Dean went ahead with the prisoners. We thought it might be traumatic for Draco to travel with them,” Hermione says when Harry looks around the camp.

Harry guides Draco over to a log on the opposite side of the fire pit, and they sit next to one another. Draco’s legs sing with relief.

“There’s something I have to tell you, and it’s not good news,” Hermione begins. Harry glances at Draco, tension gathering in his shoulders.

“You know that we sent an owl to the ministry when we found Draco. Just to update them on our progress, and let them know we were on our way back. This morning we received a response. They understand that what you did for Draco was a kindness, but they’re still ruling it a nonconsensual bond because Draco didn’t sign any paperwork before his heat.”

Harry’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head, squeezing Draco’s hand tight. “Hermione, they wouldn’t…You can’t mean…”

“They’re going to administer the bond dissolution potion to both of you the morning after your return. They’re waiting for my owl.”

Draco must have heard her wrong. The bond dissolution potion? That can’t be a real thing. Everyone knows that bonds are for life. He was supposed to be with Harry for life. That’s why they didn’t make love last night. Because they had their entire lives to do it. Harry was going to take Draco to his cabin, and bring apples home to Draco every day. That was the plan.

“They can’t do that,” Draco says.

“Oh Draco, I’m so sorry. This must be awful for you. Your bonding hormones are really strong right now, and so the idea of your bond ending is probably painful. But I promise that I’ll help you find a good mate after your bond with Harry ends, okay?”

Draco feels a flicker of hope.

“I can bond to someone after the bond dissolution?” he asks.

Hermione nods.

“Then… could I…. If Harry would be interested, that is. Maybe we could… bond again. If Harry would want that, of course. I’m not sure he would want that,” Draco stammers.

Hermione sighs. “I’m so sorry, Draco. But once a bond has been dissolved, it can’t be recreated.”

Draco’s heart sinks. He glances over at Harry, who is looking away. Draco knows better than to ask if the ministry cares what he wants. No one has ever cared what Draco wanted except for Harry. Draco would like to run away with Harry, but Harry would never give up everything to flee from the ministry. Unlike Draco, Harry has something to lose.

“Ron and I are going to take a hike to the stream, so you two can have some privacy, okay?” Hermione says.

“I’m sorry, mate,” Ron says to Harry, as he gets up, and walks off into the forest with Hermione.

“Hey, you okay?” Harry asks with a soft voice.

Draco wants to ask Harry to stay with him, even without the bond. Betas go their entire lives without a bond, and so do most alphas. It was more than possible, if a little dangerous for Draco. Harry would still be able to knot him during his heats. Harry could still bring him apples, and hold him close at night. That’s all Draco needs. But Draco knows better than to ask. Everything about their physical relationship will be less without the bond, and Draco isn’t sure that Harry would want him without it.

Instead, Draco says nothing.

“You’ll… have a chance to make a better match, Draco.”

Draco wants to tell him that there is no better match for him than Harry. He wants to explain that his feelings for Harry are more than just the bond, and they aren’t going to go away if he drinks a potion.

Instead, Draco reaches for the front of Harry trousers.

“Oh, love, no,” Harry says.

But Draco doesn’t listen. He gets to have five days with Harry. That’s it. And Hermione said they’d be gone for a while.

He unbuttons Harry’s trousers, pulling down the zipper. Harry’s fingers push him away.

“No.”

“Just let me please you, Harry. Let me see you come. Just once.”

“We can’t. Didn’t you listen to Hermione? You’re going to be bonded to someone else.”

Draco’s eyes water, and he tries to hold back the tears of disappointment and heartbreak.

“I don’t want anyone else. Please, Harry. I want to see your face when you come. I want to taste you. Just once. Just let me do it once, so I can remember when you’re gone.”

Harry’s arms close around Draco, rubbing his back. And that’s when all of Draco’s composure dissolves, and he is sobbing into Harry’s shoulder. He’ll never get to taste Harry or watch him come. He’ll never get to see what Harry meant by making love. There was some part of Draco that knew all of this was too good to be true. He should have known that he would never get to keep Harry.

“It’s okay, Draco. It will be all right. Hermione will find someone good for you,” Harry says, and Draco can hear the anguish in Harry’s voice. Harry is upset by this too.

Somehow, that makes everything feel better and worse at the same time.

“What about you?” Draco asks.

Harry’s arms squeeze him tighter. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to be fine. I have my business with Neville. I have my family.”

Draco can read between the lines. Once they drink that potion, Harry isn’t going to go looking for someone else. Like Draco, that isn’t what he wants.

Draco doesn’t doesn’t slide his hand under Harry’s pants, still exposed from where Draco tried to undress him before. But Draco does kiss him. And this time, Harry doesn’t push him away. He kisses him back-- so hard that Draco can close his eyes and get lost. So hard, that it reminds Draco of the rhythm of Harry’s hips during their bond. His alpha is kind, but he’s also powerful.

Something long forgotten awakens in Draco. Eight years ago the sorting hat put him in Slytherin for a reason. Without asking, Draco knows that Harry isn’t going to do what it takes to save their relationship. He won’t force a nonconsensual bond on Draco. He’s far too noble for that.

But Draco isn’t going to give up that mark on Harry’s arm easily. Draco may not have a wand, but he has his mind. And if the ministry thinks they’re going to take away the one person who has treated him like an equal since he presented as an omega, they are mistaken.

Draco’s lips descend down Harry’s jaw, and to his neck. Harry is panting now, as Draco nips and sucks, dragging his tongue along Harry’s nape until he reaches the place where Harry’s neck meets his shoulder. He bites down hard, making his claim once again, the tang of blood flooding into his mouth. Harry cries out, and Draco can smell Harry’s bitter seed spurting. Before Harry can stop him, Draco slides his fingers past the elastic band of Harry’s pants, coating his palm with Harry’s semen. When Draco lifts his hand to his mouth, tasting Harry for the first time, blood still on his lips, Harry moans.

Draco doesn’t have to say “You’re mine.” He doesn’t have to say “I’m not giving you up.” The hope in Harry’s eyes makes it clear that he understands. And Harry doesn’t shy away from this feral, empowered side of Draco. Harry doesn’t try to assert his dominance.

He just says, “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

***

Draco doesn’t feel any guilt when the atrophy of his muscles slows the progress of their group to a crawl. During every break they take, Harry’s arms close around him. And within that safety, Draco can think. He can plan. Every time his muscles need to rest, they are buying him more time to plot and strategize.

That night, after they’ve eaten, Hermione raises an eyebrow in question when Harry gets out their sleeping bags, still zipped together. The message from her is clear: if their bond is going to be dissolved in a few days, Harry should separate the sleeping bags. It’s the same look she gave Harry every time he held Draco during their breaks. And just like those other times, Harry looks away, almost as if he agrees that he might be taking advantage of Draco, but he’s determined to respect Draco’s feelings anyway. The conflict between the two ideas is clearly eating at Harry.

Draco needs to fix that.

“Will you put up concealment charms?” Draco whispers in Harry’s ear.

Harry smiles at him, nodding.

It’s mesmerizing to watch Harry’s wand work. He really is a fantastic wizard. Draco wonders what Harry will think when he sees how inept Draco is at magic. He was a decent student at Hogwarts, but he didn’t get past his fourth year, and he hasn’t been able to practice in years.

I guess he’ll find out soon enough. That’s part of tonight’s plan.

“There. They can’t see or hear us now. I mean, they’ll be able to tell we’re using concealment charms, and Hermione isn’t going to like that, but we can share a sleeping bag now.”

Draco smiles. His alpha has put up concealment charms so they can cuddle. That’s adorable. Harry has no idea what Draco has planned.

Draco puts on his best helpless omega face, and says, “Is there any way I could hold your wand? Just for a second? I haven’t… had one in years.” It’s close enough to the truth that it isn’t hard to be convincing.

Harry nods, and hands him the small piece of wood that changes everything for a wizard.

Harry goes back to setting up their sleeping bags. When Harry is kneeling over the bags, spreading them out, Draco whispers “Incarcerous.”

He remembers that spell very well. Lucius used it enough times.

Ropes wrap around Harry’s entire body, pinning him on top of the sleeping bags. When Draco flips him over, Harry doesn’t look angry. He’s smiling. He understands. It would be wrong for Harry to have sex with Draco at this point. Their bond has been deemed nonconsensual, and Draco is still affected by the hormones of the bond. But if Harry is tied up… well, then, how can he be blamed for what happens next?

Draco doesn’t know how to vanish Harry’s clothes, so he’s going to have to work around them. But that’s alright. He approaches Harry, stepping over him until he has a foot on either side of Harry’s hips. He sits, straddling Harry.

“Are you going to ravage me against my will?” Harry asks, grinning.

Draco laughs. How long has it been since he’s laughed? But it feels easy, even natural, with Harry.

“Maybe. If I can get your clothes off.”

He tugs on Harry’s shirt, trying to pull it up through the strands of rope.

“The spell is Evanesco,” Harry says, mischief in his eyes.

Draco shakes his head. “You’re not supposed to help me rape you.”

This time it’s Harry who laughs. “Oh, I intend to be very helpful, if that is your plan. Especially if you plan to rape my mouth.”

Draco flushes. “But… I’m an omega.”

Harry’s smile deepens. “I noticed.”

“Alphas don’t…do that. For omegas, that is.” But as Draco says this, and Harry raises both of his eyebrows in obvious skepticism, Draco wonders if it’s true. He wonders how much he really knows about how alphas and omegas make love. All that he knows he learned from a book he saved from the study in Malfoy Manor when he suspected he wasn’t going to present as an alpha the way Lucius hoped he would.

“Do alphas do that for omegas?” Draco asks.

“You’re asking the wrong question. You’re an omega who just tied up your alpha. I’m pretty sure that goes against traditional gender roles. So the real question is: what do you want?”

Draco thinks about it. “I want to watch you come.”

Harry smirks. “Well, then you’re in luck, because I’m so keyed up, apparently all it takes is one bite from you.”

Draco gets instantly hard thinking about how Harry tasted earlier that day. He clears his throat, raising Harry’s wand.

“Don’t point that at my dick while you’re doing a vanishing spell, alright?” Harry says.

Draco laughs again.

It takes a few tries, but he vanishes Harry’s shirt and trousers.

“Is the rope hurting your skin?” Draco asks.

Harry nods, giving him this dark look, his eyes full of desire. “You’re not the only one who’s not a fan of traditional gender roles, love.”

Draco tugs at the stretchy length of rope across Harry’s chest, watching it bite into the flesh of Harry’s arms. Draco loves the surge of power and arousal he feels as Harry writhes beneath him.

Curious, Draco lets the rope snap back, directly onto Harry’s nipples. Harry arches, moaning, his face tense, his jaw clenching.

“You like that,” Draco whispers, feeling hot and somewhat overwhelmed by how much he likes it too.

“Yes. Does that bother you?” Harry asks, but there’s no question in his eyes. Harry must see how affected Draco is.

“I… no. I shouldn’t…”

“Don’t finish that sentence. Sex isn’t a matter of shouldn’ts or shoulds. As long as we’re both consenting adults, it doesn’t matter.”

Draco’s mouth quirks up. “Actually, I’m not asking for your consent. That’s kind of the point of all of this.”

“Right. Of course. Because apparently you can’t consent either. Because everyone underestimates you, don’t they?” Harry asks.

The fact that Harry understands that-- the fact that he cares, makes the love in Draco’s chest swell again.

Draco knows what he wants. He wants to ride Harry. He wants to be in control, and watch Harry fall apart underneath him. He wants to make Harry knot, and then he wants to grind against that knot.

Draco isn’t sure how many extra clothes Harry has, so he doesn’t vanish his trousers. Instead, he stands, and turns away from Harry. He unbuttons and unzips his trousers, slowly lowering them until they’re halfway down his ass. Then he pulls the fabric taut against his skin, so the flesh of his ass bubbles over the fabric.

“Fuck, Draco. How could you be any more perfect?”

Feeling encouraged, Draco bends over as he slides his trousers off, separating his feet so Harry can see how wet he is. Harry groans in appreciation. Draco turns around, watching Harry as he lifts his shirt from the bottom hem, slowly revealing his stomach and chest. As Harry’s eyes burn into him, his cock growing ridiculously large under the pants that Draco hasn’t vanished yet, Draco drinks in the power he has over this man.

Once the shirt is off, Draco straddles Harry again, tapping Harry’s wand against Harry’s hip, and whispering the vanishing spell one last time. He doesn’t have to look down to see that it worked. Draco takes Harry’s cock into his hand, and guides it into his weeping hole, sinking down onto it all at once. He can feel the course ropes against his inner thighs, and the pain of that, plus the overwhelming fullness is enough to make Draco come. His ass clamps down on Harry’s cock, and he rocks back and forth with the rush of pleasure.

“Yes, love. Yes. Let go,” Harry says.

When he’s recovered, he’s grateful for that short refraction period omegas have during the first few days after the bond. It seems that the book got some things right. His dick never quite softens as he maneuvers himself up into a crouching position, lifting almost completely off Harry’s cock, slamming back down.

His legs are shaking once again as he pushes himself up and down Harry’s length, always coming down hard and fast, loving the sound of his skin slapping against Harry’s. He’s lost in sensation, goaded on by Harry’s cries. He can feel Harry begin to swell inside of him, hear the pitch of Harry’s voice rise. He’s so close to coming yet again, that he crashes down on Harry one last time, reaching forward, and pinching Harry’s nipples, giving them a brutal twist. Harry’s voice thunders around him, as Harry’s knot fills him, that stretch painful, but so sweet. Draco can’t help but bear down on it, which makes Harry call out again, and swell even larger inside of him. Harry’s face is red and twisted-- his eyes closed and his mouth open. It’s so beautiful Draco wants to see it every time they have sex.

Draco’s whole body has started shaking, shocked by the size of the knot. He’s trying to relax around it, but it feels like so much. It hurts just as badly as it did last time. But this time, the pain feels different. The pain feels good. And that’s just as overwhelming. He feels Harry’s hands pull against the ropes to squeeze Draco’s hips, his fingers clawing into Draco’s skin, and then Draco is coming again, pulsing around Harry’s swollen cock-- his skin, already tight from the knot, burning with every contraction.

He collapses on top of Harry, the rough rope against his naked skin feeling like too much now that he’s spent. He reaches for the wand he left next to Harry, and taps the rope. Then Harry’s arms are around him. He can see the stripes the rope left on Harry’s skin, and his dick almost hardens again. Harry’s cum is filling him up now, as Harry’s arms tighten, holding Draco close.

“You’re mine, Draco. I don’t care what they say. You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine,” Draco says.

That’s when Draco realizes what he’s going to do. A plan, clear and wonderfully logical, forms in his head. For once, the way everyone underestimates him will work in his favor. The ministry will be completely unprepared for Draco.

After all, Harry said he liked a reversal of gender roles.

Harry’s going to love this.


	3. Chapter 3

The next night Harry casts concealment charms after laying out their sleeping bags, despite the heated discussion he had with Hermione that morning about the effect of the bond on Draco’s emotions. She’d been cold toward Harry all day.

Harry sits on the sleeping bags, and pats the space next to him. Draco obediently sits down, looking at Harry for some kind of direction on what will happen next. He isn’t sure how much of Hermione’s speech this morning hit home.

“We could just talk,” Harry says, even though they’d been talking all day. Draco suspects this fueled some of Hermione’s anger. She certainly noticed how both of them simply carried on like their bond wasn’t going to be dissolved in a few days.

“Or I could tie you up,” Draco suggests with a quirk of his lips.

Harry smiles back. “Yes, you could do that.”

“Or you could fuck me,” Draco says.

Harry’s eyes glitter with mischief before he says, “Or you could fuck me.”

Draco’s mouth drops open. 

Harry laughs. “I know you have a dick. I’ve seen it. And I have an asshole. So why is this so shocking to you?”

“It’s just…”

“I’m an alpha?” Harry interrupts. “Well, it just so happens that you’re bonded to an alpha who likes to bottom now and then. What do you think about that?”

Draco isn’t sure what to think about that. Back when he was too young to smell like an omega, he entertained fantasies of kissing other boys, and occasionally touching them in inappropriate places. But he never imagined fucking anyone. The idea is foreign and so unbelievably hot, he grows painfully hard. Harry notices and gives him a wicked grin.

“I have an idea… If you wouldn’t mind indulging me. You see, I have this thing for three-somes,” Harry begins, stopping when Draco pales at the thought of asking Ron or Hermione to join them. “Let me explain. Now that we’re bonded, I don’t want sex with anyone but you. But the idea of you getting fucked by someone else while fucking me? That’s hot.”

Draco is still confused, and very uninterested in the concept of sex with Ron. Ron is a nice enough bloke, but ugh.

“Draco, I’m talking about a dildo. Not a human.”

Draco almost sighs with relief. “Do you have one?” This possibility seems very unlikely, as Harry packed for a hiking trip with a bunch of aurors, not an orgy.

“Not really. We may have to improvise.”

Harry summons a nearby stick, and Draco watches as the stick thickens, the surface of the wood smoothing out until it looks like a large wooden penis.

“How exactly is this going to work?” Draco asks, and can feel the slick pooling in between his ass cheeks, the concept of getting fucked while fucking Harry very real now, and very appealing.

“Ummm, we’ll figure it out as we go?” Harry says uncertainty.

“Do you have lube?” Draco asks, because alphas definitely don’t slick.

Harry winces. “Ummmm, not exactly. Here is the sort of fucked up part of the plan… I thought we’d use yours. I mean, you produce a lot of it.”

“You mean… take slick from my ass to lube yours?” Draco clarifies, surprised by how sexy that idea is to him.

“Well, yes,” Harry says, running his hand through his unruly hair. “I think you’ll find that I’m a really kinky bastard. I don’t mean to freak you out or anything, but if we’re going to keep the bond, it’s probably good you know now…”

Draco locks eyes with Harry, and wiggles off his trousers and pants, coming onto his hands and knees. His cock is hard and erect, bouncing against his stomach as he gets situated.

“I think I’m finding that I’m a really kinky bastard too,” Draco says.

Harry bites his lip and closes his eyes. “Fuck, Draco. I can’t believe you’re game for this. Where on earth did I find you?”

Harry removes all of his clothes, and then the rest of Draco’s before skating his fingers along Draco’s back. He can hear how rough Harry’s breath is as he inserts one finger inside of Draco, circling it around easily, the sound of Draco’s self lubrication squelching loudly into the night.

“Mmmm, you’re so wet,” Harry whispers, and then Harry’s finger is gone for a few moments. When Draco looks back he sees Harry’s legs spread, his hand hooked back to press Draco’s wetness into his own ass. Draco moans.

“You like that?” Harry asks, that wolfish grin back on his face.

Draco nods.

Harry’s forefinger, warm from his own body, enters Draco again.

“More,” Draco whimpers, and Harry obliges him, sliding another finger in next to the first. The fingers circle around, scooping out more slick, and then they are gone. Draco watches Harry prep himself with a desperate need growing both in his ass and dick, both waiting in anticipation for what Harry promised would happen next. Harry dives in Draco’s ass once more, this time with three fingers, pumping them in and out several times before taking the slick away, and returning to his own prep.

A few moments later Draco feels something cold and hard slide into his hole. The wooden dildo. That must mean Harry is ready. Draco’s fingers claw into the sleeping bags, and he squeezes his eyes shut with want.

“Harry…”

“Just let me get in front of you here,” Harry says, crawling over to the foot of the sleeping bags and kneeling in front of Draco-- turning so Draco can see his back and ass. Draco notices the slick glistening in between Harry’s ass cheeks.

“I’m ready,” Harry tells him, resting his upper body on his forearms, and spreading his knees. He looks like an omega presenting to an alpha, Draco realizes. The idea makes Draco shiver.

Draco doesn’t prep Harry any further. He lines his cock up with Harry’s entrance, and slowly slides into the tight heat. Harry moans. When he is completely sheathed by Harry’s body he has to take a moment to stop himself from coming from the sensation of feeling so full and being inside Harry at the same time. That’s when he feels the dildo in his ass twitch. Harry’s left hand is twirling his wand, and then the dildo is sliding out of Draco, and pushing back in.

“Uggnnn,” Draco groans.

“Move,” Harry begs.

Then Draco is fucking Harry, the dildo thrusting into Draco in a synchronized rhythm. Draco grabs Harry’s hips, slamming into him hard, Harry murmuring, “Yes, fuck, yes. So good,” and Draco calling out as the dildo finds his prostate, There is no way he can hold back from the orgasm building inside of him. He makes a desperate reach for Harry’s huge cock, encircling it with his fingers, and pulling hard. Harry shakes and spurts beneath him, his ass spasming around Draco as Draco comes and comes and comes.

Harry collapses onto the sleeping bags, Draco plopping out of him, and Draco follows him, the wooden dildo still stuck up his ass.

“Wow, just wow,” Harry says, laughing.

Draco hooks his arm around Harry, pulling him tight. “Yes. Wow.”

***

They hike and fuck for five days. Draco is perpetually happy and tired as he opens up about his life to Harry-- both in bed and on the trail. The stories he tells on the trail are the happy ones-- about how beautiful his mom was and how much he liked his years at Hogwarts. The stories he tells Harry at night are harder to confess-- about when his father started getting involved in omega trafficking, and the times Draco met other omegas whose virginities had been sold and were aching for alphas who would never return. Lucius didn't handle poverty and the knowledge that his son was an omega very well. But Harry is a good listener, and he doesn’t seem to mind if Draco needs to cry.

Harry shares more about his life too, and it isn’t all good. Harry struggled at Hogwarts when he started smelling like an alpha, but was the size of a beta or omega. And when Harry didn't choose a profession that would be lucrative, and it became clear he would never have the financial resources to secure a match with an omega, not a lot of people understood. But hIs friendship with Neville and relationship with his parents are obvious highlights, and Draco loves the way Harry glows when he talks about them.

Draco enjoys how their sex life blooms into a space where he can take control or give it, with no fear of being rejected. Draco makes sure to never reject Harry’s quirks either. For instance, over the course of their journey Harry takes to smelling Draco’s hair at strangely regular intervals. Even in front of Hermione and Ron. It's simultaneously bizarre and sweet. He just pulls Draco close and takes a big whiff before continuing to hike or eat. It still takes Draco by surprise sometimes, but he understands that Harry needs to do this, and he doesn’t question it.

Hermione isn’t supportive of their nightly trysts at first, but Draco notices how she changes as the days go by. She listens to Draco’s stories, and Draco watches her try to understand her friend’s connection with Draco. On the last day of their journey, she finally warms to Harry again.

Once they reach the clearing at the end of the woods Ron whoops. They have a quick farewell, and Hermione reminds them both that she will be stopping by with the ministry to administer the bond dissolution potion the next morning. Harry nods, unconcerned. Which makes Draco understand how much Harry trusts him, but also makes Draco worried. What if his plan doesn’t work?

Harry warns Draco that they are going to side apparate, and then Draco feels that familiar pull on his stomach. The woods they apparate to are drastically different than the forest they just left. The sun shines brightly through the trees. Draco can hear birds singing. In the distance Draco can see a small cabin. It isn’t at all like the other cabin in the woods, even though Harry had told him it would be. It’s painted a cheery white, and as they get closer, Draco can see that someone has whimsically painted yellow flowers up and down the pillars around the deep porch. There are two wooden chairs with worn cushions sitting on the porch. Draco can imagine himself sitting there with Harry on summer nights, and a deep feeling of peace washes over him. This cabin is the kind of place where he could be happy-- where he could heal.

They walk up the white steps together. Closer up, it’s clear the house needs a new coat of paint. Also, the porch seems to sag a little to one side.. In some ways, this makes Draco like the house even more. He can be useful here. He’s always been good with his hands.

When Harry opens the front door, he steps aside so Draco can enter first. In some ways, the inside of the house is very much a bachelor pad. The old couch is a horrible maroon, and paired with the scuffed green armchairs in the front room, gives the impression of a perpetual second-hand Christmas. But there are so many ways that the cabin is more than a bachelor pad. There’s a basket of knitting in the corner. The fireplace mantle is lined with photographs. This isn’t just some place that Harry sleeps in. This is Harry’s home.

“I know it isn’t much,” Harry says. Draco notices the tension in Harry’s shoulders.

“I think it’s perfect.”

Harry seems to relax.

“The bedroom and wash room are back here,” Harry says, guiding Draco down a hall, and through a door. The room is small and dark. There is a narrow twin bed in the corner, and a dresser overflowing with clothes.

“I’ll have to… transfigure that bed. Sorry. It was bigger before, but I shrank it because it made me feel lonely,” Harry explains.

Draco unwinds his fingers from Harry’s, and slides his arms around Harry, squeezing him tight.

“Maybe I can help with that,” Draco whispers in his ear. And then Draco tells Harry his plan.

***

Hermione arrives the next morning with two men named Kingsley Shacklebolt and Rufus Scrimgeour. Harry seems perfectly calm as he invites them in, and asks if they want tea.

“This matter shouldn’t take long enough for tea, Potter. Where is the omega?” Scrimgeour says curtly.

“Draco. The omega’s name is Draco Malfoy,” Hermione corrects him.

Scrimgeour sighs. “Yes, obviously. Where is he, Potter?”

Draco steps into the front room wearing a suit he found in Harry’s closet. It doesn’t fit Draco that well, and it’s obviously old, but it makes him feel more confident.

“I’m Draco Malfoy.”

Kingsley Shacklebolt uncorks a bottle, and the smell of singed hair and vinegar fills the room.

“Bond dissolution potion isn’t pumpkin juice, I’m afraid,” Shacklebolt says, and he holds out the bottle for Draco to take. “Just a healthy swig or two should do the trick.”

Draco stiffens, and instead of taking the bottle from Shacklebolt, he turns to Hermione. “I can tell you the location of my father, Lucius Malfoy.”

“Alright. He’s the one who sold you, right?” Hermione asks.

Draco nods. “But I’m not the only omega he’s trafficked. My captors were only lackeys who don’t know who’s in charge. My father knows the names of everyone. He’s been working in the trade for years. One dose of veritaserum could help you stop the omega trafficking in Europe. At least for a while.”

Shacklebolt and Scrimgeour look at each other with unguarded smiles. Their excitement is palpable. 

“Draco, I’m so sorry. Any information you could give us would be helpful. We’d be really grateful,” Hermione says.

The three aurors wait with obvious anticipation. Draco lets them wait, lets the silence stretch on for several moments before he tells them, “I want two things in return for my information.”

Scrimgeour shakes his head. “We are not in the business of trading anything for information on criminals. It’s your moral obligation to--:”

“Scrimgeour, please. Let him tell us what he wants first,” Hermione interrupts.

Scrimgeour doesn’t seem happy, but he looks at Draco expectantly.

“I want enough money to buy a wand, and I want to keep my bond with Harry.”

This causes a buzz of conversation between the three aurors. There is a lot of “highly irregulars” and “unethicals” coming from Scrimgeour, which Draco expected. Shacklebolt seems to be more interested in the value of the information Draco has than the ethical quandary of letting Draco keep his bond. But it’s Hermione’s response that surprises Draco the most.

“This is a well thought out plan, Scrimgeour. Draco doesn’t sound so compromised by bond hormones that he can’t make this decision for himself. He seems to have the mental faculties necessary to consent to a bond.”

The two men consider her words for a few moments before Scrimgeour folds his arms across his chest.

“It’s only been a week since the bond. This plan couldn’t have come from the omega. His alpha probably put him up to this. We have to dissolve the bond,” Scrimgeour says.

Draco tells himself to be calm. Yelling will just destroy his credibility. He quietly states: “If you will not give me money for a wand and allow me to keep a bond that makes me happy, I can only conclude that all three of your are more interested in casting yourselves as saviors of omegas than making our lives better. If that is the case, I have no intention of giving you information about my father’s location.”

At least Draco is certain that he’s convinced Hermione. Her jaw is set and there’s a determination in her eyes that’s encouraging. 

Shacklebolt says, “For Merlin’s sake, Scrimgeour. Let the man keep his bond. I’ve known Potter for years, and no offense Harry, but there’s no way that speech came from him.”

Harry just smiles. “No offense taken.”

Shacklebolt corks the potion, and turns to Hermione. “At the very least, if Scrimgeour isn’t willing to budge, I think we’ll need to take this up with the minister of magic before we go any further. I no longer don’t feel comfortable forcing these men to dissolve their bond.”

Scrimgeour looks horrified. “I see no reason why the minister needs to be a part of this decision. If you insist, we’ll take this omega at his word. Now, where is this Lucius Malfoy hiding?”

Draco walks over to the table, picking up the contract he wrote up last night and a self-inking quill.

“I need you to sign this first. It’s just a contract stating the legitimacy of our bond, with the affirmation of my ability to consent.”

He hands it to Scrimgeour who glances uncertainly at Shacklebolt and Hermione.

“I’ll sign it,” Hermione says, clearly exasperated with Scrimgeour. She takes the paper and quill over to the table, quickly scanning through the document before dashing off her signature.

“Thank you. My father is staying in an omega brothel in Italy. It’s hidden in a forest in Veneto. The concealment charms are sophisticated. The only people who can find it are johns with the intention of paying for sex. But I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Draco directs the last sentence to Hermione. He has no doubt that she’ll find his father, just like she found him. But Draco imagines it won’t go as well for Lucius.

“Thank you, Draco. And congratulations. Harry is a good man. I’m happy for you,” Hermione says, placing a few heavy coins in Draco’s hand. “For your wand. And a little extra. For a suit that fits.”

Harry slides his arm along Draco’s back, openly inhaling Draco’s scent in front of the aurors. “If it makes you feel better, you couldn’t have forced us to drink the bond dissolution potion anyway.”

Scrimgeour considers Harry skeptically.

“Draco’s pregnant. You wouldn’t want to rip an omega from his alpha during a pregnancy, would you?”

A warm happiness fills Draco. Of course. This is why Harry has been smelling him so much the last few days. Alphas can smell the hormonal change when their omega becomes pregnant. He leans into Harry as Harry’s arm tightens around him.

Kingsley Shacklebolt grins. “I tell you what. It’s nice to see an omega come out of a situation like this so well off. Good work, Hermione. Now let’s track down this Lucius Malfoy.”

They leave Harry and Draco in a rush. When they’re gone Draco looks at Harry and says, “You knew I was pregnant the entire time. You could have said something.”

Harry shakes his head. “I knew you would figure out a way to save our bond. I knew you needed to.”

Draco kisses Harry hard. His Harry. His alpha. And as the kiss turns into something more, and they move to the bedroom where Harry slowly and sweetly makes love to Draco in their bed, Draco holds his alpha tight, confident from how often Harry has taken in the scent of their new child during the last few days and smiled.

While he lies with Harry in the afterglow Draco lets himself dream of baby toes and a child with wild, dark hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the positive comments and kudos! I am shamelessly motivated by praise, so I appreciate your feedback. 
> 
> The next chapter is exclusively domestic smut and fluff, and will be posted next week!


	4. Chapter 4

Draco hears the front door of the cabin open, then Harry’s footsteps, as he walks into the dining room where Draco is considering the placement of a bookcase he built this morning. Harry’s carrying a small basket of apples-- bright green grannysmiths this time. Draco’s favorite. He sets the basket on the table, stepping around it to slide his arms around Draco, pressing a kiss to his neck, and inhaling Draco’s scent.

“That’s new,” Harry says.

Draco leans back into Harry’s warm arms, turning his head to kiss Harry’s cheek.

“Do you like it?” Draco asks.

“It’s nice. Books make the place more homey,” Harry says, catching Draco’s mouth into a deep kiss. Before long they’re both panting, and Harry pulls away to touch his forehead to Draco’s, a lazy smile on his lips.

“Mmmmm. I’m never going to get used to this,” Harry says.

Draco isn’t either. He closes his eyes, and revels in the smell of Harry-- his Harry.

“I’ve thought about what you asked for last night.” Harry tells him.

Draco raises his eyebrows in question, feeling hopeful.

“I’ll do it.”

Draco pulls back a few inches to look in Harry’s eyes. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Have you ever asked for anything in bed that I haven’t been willing to try?”

“It’s just… if you’re not into it…” Draco trails off.

“It’s not that. I think I will be into it. But we have been rather adventurous lately. We can only traumatize the healers at St. Mungo’s so many times. That last healer is probably still recovering from the time I asked you to put those baby blast-ended skrewts on my back, and the sores wouldn’t heal properly. Do you remember his face?”

Draco winces. “That was pretty bad. If you think I’ll hurt you--”

“I like it when you hurt me, remember? I also like watching you take my knot. I can’t help but wonder what that feels like. And like you said, fisting has to be the closest thing, right?” Harry asks.

“You don’t slick like me. You’re not as flexible as I am back there. It could hurt,” Draco says.

Harry bites his lip, that mischievous smile returning. “Yeah. I’m sort of counting on it.”

Draco is grateful Harry has access to magical healing, or they might both be in trouble.

They make dinner together-- Harry teaching Draco more cooking spells, Draco taking diligent notes. He told Harry how much he wanted an education during their first week at the cabin, and that’s when Hermione’s books showed up along with a note offering to tutor him when she got back from Italy.

“She’s brilliant,” Harry explained. “Really, brilliant. She should be the one to teach you magic.” Then Harry handed him a book on BDSM, saying wryly, “But you might want an education on this too, and I’m more than happy help out with that. You know, from one kinky bastard to another.”

Harry was right. Draco wants to learn it all.

Neville sent the parenting books. Those are the coffee table books, since Harry likes to read in the front room at night when the mosquitos make it unpleasant to stay outside. It’s also Neville who helped Harry with the magic to create a second bedroom in the cabin. Draco likes Neville. Not just because he’s an omega, but because he never apologizes for it. And it’s clear that Luna never expects him to.

Luna is building a crib for their unborn child, complete with a mobile made of tiny radishes. She shows up randomly during the day when Draco is studying or rebuilding the porch, with unusual questions about which wards Draco deems necessary for a decent crib. She brings essence of peppermint for Draco’s morning sickness, and apple strudels that Draco can’t get enough of. One morning she came over and an elaborate harness Harry asked Draco to strap him into the night before was still sitting in their living room. She simply said, “Well, that’s interesting. Harry is a very imaginative fellow, isn’t he? If you like, I can wait on the porch while you put it away.”

After dinner and the dishes, Harry usually goes out onto the porch until sunset. But tonight he slides his hands into the back pockets of Draco’s trousers and squeezes, stepping in closer and whispering in Draco’s ear, “I can’t wait any longer, love. I want you.”

Draco follows him into the bedroom, because he can’t wait any longer either.

***

Harry’s on the bed, resting on his forearms and knees, ass sticking into the air, completely naked. Draco stares at Harry’s huge, hard cock, as he takes his time prepping Harry, inserting one lubed finger into Harry’s warm body. Draco’s naked too, because he likes the way Harry stares at him when he’s not wearing any clothes.

Draco circles his finger inside of Harry, making Harry squirm. Draco can feel the tension in Harry’s shoulders as Draco’s finger continues to tease him, inching in and out, creating some sensation, but not nearly enough. Harry hips are rocking with Draco’s hand, asking for more with his body, if not his words.

Draco won’t be rushed either way.

“Usually, fisting means more fingers at some point,” Harry says, grinning back at Draco. They both know Harry loves the slow build up-- loves it when Draco takes control by making Harry wait.

“Mmmhmmm,” Draco agrees, sliding a single finger back inside of Harry.

Harry laughs. “Alright. Would it help if I begged?”

Draco’s lips quirk up on one side. “Maybe.”

Draco watches as Harry gets lost in his desire, his ass shoving back into Draco’s gentle strokes, groaning loudly when Draco finally crooks his finger against Harry’s prostate.

“Oh, Draco. Please. I need more. Please.”

Draco leans over, and bites into Harry’s ass. Hard. Harry calls out, precum pooling onto the sheets, then whines when Draco pushes inside him with nothing more than that single finger again.

“You wanker,” Harry huffs out.

Draco hooks his finger into Harry’s prostate once more, watching as Harry throws his head back.

“What was that?” Draco asks, finally slamming inside of Harry with two fingers.

“Yes!”

Draco uses the force of his whole arm to pistol his fingers into Harry for a few seconds, before returning back to his slow pace.

“Draco please,” Harry whispers.

“Please what?”

“More. I need more.”

“More what?”

“More fingers, more you, just more. Please.”

Draco lowers his mouth to Harry’s ass cheeks, sucking on the skin as he slowly slides in a third lubed finger.

“Oh. Yes. Oh, that’s good.”

Draco bites Harry again, harder this time, and the groan that escapes from Harry’s lips makes Draco want to call out too. He’s so hard for Harry, so ready to push more of himself inside Harry’s slick warmth.

Draco gives Harry a few gentle strokes with three fingers. Harry’s taken three of Draco’s fingers before, and it only takes a few minutes for him to adjust. Pushing deep inside Harry, Draco separates his fingers, and Harry’s breath picks up. Draco feels Harry’s walls pulse against him, and he closes his eyes, pressing his forehead against Harry’s ass.

“You feel so good, Harry,” Draco whispers. “I can't believe you’re going to let me put my whole hand inside of you.”

This moment and this man is everything as Draco gently and ever so slowly squeezes in his pinky.

“Oh, Draco,” Harry says, his voice soft and broken.

Draco is still, letting Harry relax around his fingers all squeezed together. He rubs his other hand over Harry’s back, pressing a gentle kiss to Harry’s ass. This is the only way Harry will ever understand what it was really like to be taken like this with kindness their first time together-- the only way Harry will ever understand how vulnerable he had been as Harry expanded inside of him.

Draco thinks of the pain, bliss, and overwhelming fullness of Harry’s knot. How much he needs it, and how much loves it. How much he loves Harry for never using that against him.

Harry’s next word is so quiet, Draco can barely hear it.

“More.”

Draco moves all four fingers inside of Harry. Just a touch, just enough to help Harry understand what that’s going to feel like. Then he stops for a moment, waiting for Harry to push his hips against Draco’s hand.

“Move when you’re ready. Take your time,” Draco says, kissing Harry’s hip.

Harry eases back, taking Draco in a little more, gasping at the pressure.

“Are you ready?” Draco asks.

Harry nods with a shaky breath.

Draco’s fingers are already bunched together, held tight by Harry’s body. Draco tucks in his thumb, pushing his hand deeper inside of Harry, feeling more resistance as he sinks in closer to his knuckles.

“Oh, Draco,” Harry says, shaking his head. “So much… so much…”

Draco understands, his hand staying firmly in place, not moving. He rubs Harry’s back again, giving him a few more sweet kisses.

Once he feels Harry’s body relax, he slides incrementally deeper.

“This is the widest part, alright?” Draco says, as his knuckles breach Harry’s entrance. Harry is trembling now, tears wetting his cheeks. He reaches back with one hand to grasp for Draco’s knee as Draco pushes inside, the resistance gone, his entire hand now swallowed by Harry’s body up to his wrist.

Harry’s head is shaking back and forth as he bares down on Draco, his breath coming in and out in panicked spurts. Harry’s erection is flagging, so Draco’s reaches around, and encircles his hand around it.

“Shhhhhh, it’s okay.”

“Oh, Draco. Oh. That’s… I can’t… OH MY! UGNNNNN”

Harry is spurting onto the bed, his dick growing and hardening-- actually knotting outside of Draco’s body. Draco’s never seen it do this, didn’t think it could. He can’t fit his fingers around it anymore. It’s swelling even past the size of Harry’s fist, Harry’s cum puddling as he keeps coming and coming. Draco can feel Harry clamp down on his hand, almost to the point of pain, but he doesn’t withdraw, he keeps pumping Harry's cock the best he can, as Harry screams, his head thrown back, his entire body tense with pleasure.

When his cum has petered out into a dribble, Harry’s body releases Draco’s hand and Harry says in a panic, “Take it out, take it out, take it out.”

Draco slowly pulls his hand back until it plops out of Harry’s body. Harry falls forward onto his face, his ass still in the air.

“Fuck,” Harry says.

“Are you okay?” Draco asks.

Harry laughs. “Yes. Yes, I am definitely okay. I just need a minute. Maybe an hour. Maybe a week.”

Draco leaves Harry for a few moments to grab his wand to clean up the mess, before helping Harry to ease onto his side. He kisses Harry’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Draco says.

Harry smiles with this eyes still closed. “Thank you.”

Draco slides behind Harry, reaching an arm around him to hold him close.

“Is that really what it’s like?” Harry asks.

Draco nods against Harry’s shoulder. “Yes.”

“Mmmm. Maybe I need to be knotted regularly too. You know, so my heat doesn’t get out of control,” Harry says, his voice still tired, but teasing.

Draco laughs. “Are you telling me that you’ve been in heat this whole time? Because that would explain a lot. You’re insatiable.”

“Sure. If saying that will get you to fist me again sometime soon. It’s been the longest heat ever.”

Draco’s smile falters, thinking of those last few days before Harry found him, before he believed he’d ever be happy.

“Not the longest heat ever. I think I win for that one.”

“Oh, love, I didn’t mean… I was just joking--”

“I know. I know. It’s alright.”

They lie there together for a long time. Harry falls asleep, but Draco doesn’t. He’s too lost in thought-- too caught up in how wrong everything could have gone. He brings a hand to his flat belly. He hasn’t started to show yet, but he thinks about their child all of the time. He hopes he can be a better father than Lucius. He hopes he can be everything the baby needs. Sometimes he worries he’ll mess up, that he won’t be enough.

But then he reminds himself that Harry will be. Enough, that is. Harry always is.

Draco cuddles closer to Harry, closing his eyes. Harry’s warmth calms him as he decides to forget his fears, and instead focus on all of the good in his life. He can do that now because there is so much of it. So much, sometimes all of it feels as big as Harry’s knot. Draco thinks it may take a little while to get used to that much happiness. But he’s going to try.

Feeling full of hope, Draco drifts off to sleep holding the man he loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week I will be posting another story. So be sure to subscribe to my username if you want updates on that.
> 
> Thank you for reading, commenting, and kudosing (is that a verb?)! You guys are the best.


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